A Musebox for Flying Squids

It's only here, in the post-orgasm haze when his barriers are fully lowered, that Cid finds the tenderness he's too afraid to show Nero any other time. His fingers smooth down the man's bony shoulders, lips press to the base of his neck. "Even with the scratchiness?" he asks, and there's soft fondness in his voice. "God, you--you look good like this."

Fucked out and peaceful.